metaphor in dusty boots

queer-with-a-pen

cowboy brings a poem

to the

gun fight

 

keeps a silver knife

with a chipped wooden

handle tucked under the

pillow on your side

of the bed

 

there are two places

set at this table,

faded tablecloth with the

circular coffee stains

and rips the cowboy

mended with those

steady hands of his

 

and in faded blue jeans,

scuffed boots left on

the welcome mat by the door,

he slices potatoes and carrots

for stew

 

hopes to warm those

darkest and coldest parts of

yourself that the sun still

doesn’t reach all

of the time 

 

and maybe you’ll be

able to let him this time,

trust that he means only

to nourish your body and soul

that he knows 

still shines 

  • Author: Boaz Priestly (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 25th, 2023 19:41
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 12
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Comments2

  • Laura🌻

    Dear Boaz,
    A sensitive and expressive poem.
    Very well written!
    Thank you for sharing.

    Laura🌻

    • queer-with-a-pen

      Laura, thank you for reading! I look forward to sharing more of my cowboy!

      • Laura🌻

        I will be looking forward to it.

      • Goddess of the Mist

        Beautiful! I can feel and taste the stew!



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